


To All The Boys I've Loved Before

by kirstenwritesthings



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-12 19:03:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16001390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirstenwritesthings/pseuds/kirstenwritesthings
Summary: Whenever you heart felt a little too full, you let your feelings overflow onto pages. After you kissed Race, in the middle of a game of spin the bottle at your first real boy-girl party, you wrote him a letter explaining how much it meant to you. After Romeo saw you standing alone at your first Homecoming and took your hand to lead you in a sweet, short slow dance, you wrote him a letter about how good it felt to not be alone, and to have him by your side. After Katherine told you that she was dating Jack, when you felt your heart sink as you smiled and gave her a hug, you wrote him a letter about how much you wished he’d chosen you, or even seen you as an option.The letters were only ever for your eyes, for you to understand what your heart wanted, at those moments. The letters were all hypotheticals. They were impossible fantasies and you liked it that way.Until the third day of your junior year, when it all came crashing down.





	1. The Beginning

It wasn’t that you fell in love easily, the opposite was actually true. You just had a lot of fuzzy feelings, fairly often, and those feelings were pretty easy to misinterpret as love. That’s how it had been with Race Higgins, back in grade six, when everyone still called him Tony and he was your first kiss in a game of spin the bottle. That’s how it had been with Romeo Cortes, when he danced with you at your first ever school dance in grade nine. That’s how it had been with Jack Kelly, who had been your first best friend, your cute neighbour and your sister’s first boyfriend.

(Well, Kath wasn’t your sister, not exactly. Her parents, Mr and Mrs Pulitzer had taken you in when your mom had passed and, when Mrs Pulitzer joined her, Katherine’s dad had become a father to you both. So, she wasn’t your sister, not by blood, but she was your family in every way that mattered.)

One thing your mother had taught you, long ago, before you’d been old enough to understand what she meant, was that there were few better ways to understand yourself than writing. She filled books with pages and pages of how she felt when she met your dad, and how she felt when he wasn’t around anymore, and how her heart soared with love for you.

So, whenever you heart felt a little too full, you let your feelings overflow onto pages. After you kissed Race, in the middle of a game of spin the bottle at your first real boy-girl party, you wrote him a letter explaining how much it meant to you. After Romeo saw you standing alone at your first Homecoming and took your hand to lead you in a sweet, short slow dance, you wrote him a letter about how good it felt to not be alone, and to have him by your side. After Katherine told you that she was dating Jack, when you felt your heart sink as you smiled and gave her a hug, you wrote him a letter about how much you wished he’d chosen you, or even seen you as an option.

The letters were only ever for your eyes, for you to understand what your heart wanted, at those moments. Race was dating Spot, your second (and ex) best friend; Romeo was gay, and the entire school knew that he’d been pining after Darcy for forever and Jack was cute and creative and kind, but Katherine was the closest person to your heart and you would never ever hurt her by dating him, even after they broke up when she left for college. The letters were all hypotheticals. They were impossible fantasies and you liked it that way.

Until the third day of your junior year, when it all came crashing down.

Race walked up to you, dressed in the same jeans and bomber jacket kind of style that he (and most of his track team friends) had been rocking since the start of high school. He made it work, but that was no secret. Everyone who had ever been in your school hallways knew that Race Higgins was cute. It was one of those things. The sun rose every morning, the moon controlled the tides, Race Higgins was cute. It was an easy and simple fact. Another easy and simple fact was that Spot, Race’s boyfriend, had stopped liking you pretty much as soon as high school had began. You weren’t sure why, but you didn’t mind too terribly. You had people in your corner, like Katherine and Davey, so Spot could dislike you if he wanted to. Still, he probably wouldn’t have been too happy to see Race coming to talk to you with a serious look in his eyes, looking as though he was seeking you out.

He found you sitting outside school, with your laptop open on your lap. You were working on your English assignment as you waited for the bus.

“Hey, Y/N. Can I, uh, talked to you for a second?”

You were surprised, but you pulled out an earphone and motioned for Race to sit down next to you.

“Listen, as much as I appreciate the thought, Spot and I, like, just broke up so I don’t think that we could…”

He trailed off, looking at you expectantly.

“No offense, but what are you talking about, Race?”

He laughed, sounding a little uneasy and reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of paper in a vaguely familiar envelope.

“This letter is, like, really sweet and from what I can remember that kiss was pretty hot, given that we were twelve, but, I just don’t think we should date.”

Suddenly, you felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Oh, no. No, no, no, no. He could not have gotten the letter. How could he have gotten the letter? It was locked away in a box at the top of the closest in your room and there was no way he could have it. But, he did. And, if he had gotten his, that meant that… Oh, motherfucking, no.

You looked up and saw Jack, heading out of the school building and making a beeline for you. No, no, no. So, before you could think, you panicked and did the only thing that would stop Jack from talking to you. You grabbed the collar of Race’s jacket and pulled him towards you. Letting your laptop drop onto the grass below you, you screwed your eyes shut, and kissed him. After a moment, he sunk into you and you opened your eyes for a second to see Jack, in your peripheral vision, hesitating and turning back. In your head you thanked Jesus, Mary and Joseph.

You pulled away from Race and both of you were gasping a little.

“Uh, okay, that was a little better than the kiss we had when we were twelve, but, um, respectfully, what the fuck just happened?”

Race sounded as confused as you felt, and just then, the school bus pulled in.

“Shit, I-I’m so sorry about that, but, uh, I have to go. Thank you!”

You grabbed your laptop, stuffed it in your bag and ran to the bus, sinking down into the first seat you found. You glanced out of the window and saw Race, still clutching the letter tightly in his hands, looking well-kissed, with wide pupils and swollen lips and more than a little bewildered.

“Fuck,” you said under your breath.

“You can say that again, sister.”

You glanced to your right and, there, sitting next to you in all his glory, was Romeo Cortes.

“Hi,” you said feebly, with an even weaker wave.

“Hey. You okay? You kind of look like you just got rejected from the college of your dreams.”

“Ha. Something like that. I definitely have the same ‘my life is officially over’ feeling.”

He gave a low whistle and spoke softly.

“So, I, uh, got your letter.”

For the third time that day, you felt ready to chug a cup of lighter fluid. You didn’t reply.

“I’m really flattered, and Homecoming really was fun, but, um, you know I’m gay, right?”

You covered your warm face with your hands.

“I know, of course I do,” the words came out a little muffled, so you pulled your hands away and continued. “I wrote that letter ages ago. Those are the feelings of past me, not current me, I swear. I am so so sorry.”

Romeo nudged your shoulder with his and shrugged.

“Hey, it’s all good. I’m used to being irresistible.”

You let out a little helpless laugh and he grinned, kindly.

“There we go. So, you can smile! You look like you need someone to talk to. Wanna tell me about your day?”

You looked at him and the words came spilling out. You explained the letters, and Jack and your consensually ambiguous kiss with Race and the pit of helplessness you felt at the bottom of your stomach.

“Wow,” was all he said, at first. What more could he say?

“Well, first of all, homeboy kissed back, so I wouldn’t worry about the consent there. Secondly, you need to talk to your sister before her ex-boyfriend does. And then, you need to talk to him. And Race. Basically, you’ve got a lot of talking to do.”

“Can’t I just sink into a hole and die instead?”

“While that sounds like a great option, I’d be gutted if my favourite dance partner disappeared.”

He gave you a smile, and you felt a little bit better. If Romeo believed your story, maybe the others would too.

The bus pulled up to your stop and you got up to leave. Romeo was right, you needed to call Kath, as soon as you could.

As you walked from the bus stop to your house, you saw someone standing on your porch. He was wearing paint-stained jeans, a dark blue shirt, murderously hot combat boots and a badass leather jacket. Jack Kelly. Of fucking course. Shit. You turned and ran, as fast as your legs would carry you.


	2. The Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You found yourself at Jacobi’s Deli. It was a little café, near enough to home that you could get there on foot, but far enough that Jack wouldn’t come looking for you here. Hopefully. You ordered a water and sank down in one of the booths. You reached for your phone to call Katherine, but your battery was on 2%. You sighed and thought that you must have been a massive bitch in a past life for karma to be kicking your ass like this. After lying with your head in your hands for long enough that your waitress to gave a weird look, you pulled out your laptop and figured that you might as well get some work done while you were brainstorming the logistics of changing your name and moving to Venezuela. A bell rang at the door, and in walked a familiar face. Race Higgins was sitting across from you before you could say anything.

You found yourself at Jacobi’s Deli. It was a little café, near enough to home that you could get there on foot, but far enough that Jack wouldn’t come looking for you here. Hopefully. You ordered a water and sank down in one of the booths. You reached for your phone to call Katherine, but your battery was on 2%. You sighed and thought that you must have been a massive bitch in a past life for karma to be kicking your ass like this. After lying with your head in your hands for long enough that your waitress to gave a weird look, you pulled out your laptop and figured that you might as well get some work done while you were brainstorming the logistics of changing your name and moving to Venezuela. A bell rang at the door, and in walked a familiar face. Race Higgins was sitting across from you before you could say anything.

“Hey, fancy seeing you here! Okay, just kidding, I definitely asked your dad, uh, Mr Pulitzer, where I could find you,” he said, with that stupidly cute smirk of his.

When you didn’t say anything, he frowned and poked your arm.

“So, we probably need to talk, right?”

You finally met his eyes.

“Look, I’m really sorry that I kissed you and about that stupid letter and about, like, everything else!”, the words tumbled out before you could stop them. “God, my life is either a bad teen movie or an absolute disaster. Or both.”

“Woah, woah, woah. It’s okay, dude, don’t worry about it. But, I just wanted to be clear that- “

“Yeah, yeah, that nothing can happen between us. Don’t worry, we’re on the same page. I wanted to date you five years ago, not now.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Your mouth now is saying that you don’t want to date me, but your mouth was saying something pretty different earlier.”

He winked cheekily.

“Okay, Higgins, here’s the deal. I wrote you a love letter when I was twelve and I kissed you because I could not deal with speaking to Jack Kelly at that point in time. My mouth hasn’t been into you since middle school, I promise.”

“Wait, so that wasn’t an I’ve-been-pining-for-five-years kiss?”

He put a hand to his chest.

“Aw, that kinda sucks the romance out of it. You think a girl finds you special but turns out she didn’t mean the love letter or the kiss? I’m hurt. Truly.”

You swatted at his arm, gently, and he let out a little laugh.

“Seriously, though, Race. You saved me from a really, really awkward conversation with Jack.”

“Why did you need to avoid him, anyway? What, you didn’t write him a love letter too, did’ya?”

He was obviously joking, but when you didn’t grin back at him, the smirk dropped off his face.

“Wait, seriously? You wrote two love letters? One of them to your best friend’s ex?”

You didn’t bother to ask how he knew that Jack had dated Katherine. Spot pretty much ran the rumour mill at school, so you weren’t even surprised that Race knew. You gave him a wry smile.

“I wrote three love letters. One to you, one to Jack and one to Romeo Cortes.”

His eyes widened in shock, and then a laugh spilled out from his lips.

“No way! You wrote a love letter to Romeo? He’s gay!”

“I know, Higgins. The same way I didn’t mean what I said in your letter or Jack’s, I didn’t mean what I said in his.”

He cocked his head to the side, like an adorable golden retriever.

“Well, if you didn’t mean what you said, why’d you send ‘em?”

“I didn’t! I don’t know how they got out, and that’s the worst part. None of you were ever meant to read those words!”

He let out a low whistle.

“Wow. You were right. Your life is kind of a disaster.”

You rolled your eyes, as if you needed him to tell you that. Just then, your waitress came over. Her eyes scanned over Race, and, yep, she was definitely checking him out. He, of course, basked in the attention. She glanced at you in surprise, and you rolled your eyes again, almost unconsciously. How dare she look shocked? Not that you wanted to, but you could totally land a jock-type like Race if you wanted.

As soon as she left, Race gasped quietly and gave you another massive smile.

“I have an idea,” he said.

You groaned.

“No, no, no, just hear me out before you react negatively!”

His eyes were twinkling, and it was difficult to avoid them.

“Okay, fine. What is it?”

His smile somehow grew.

“So, that waitress totally thought we were here, like, together.”

He waggled his eyebrows at you and you suppressed another eyeroll.

“That doesn’t sound like an idea to me.”

“I’m getting to the idea. We should date!”

If you had been drinking water, this was around the time that you would have done a spit take. Instead, you just looked at him disbelievingly.

“Not like date-date,” he quickly continued. “Like, you need Jack to not talk to you or think that you’re into him, right?”

You nodded slowly.

“I need Spot to want to get back with me!”

You really hoped you were wrong about where he was going with this.

“Soooo,” he dragged the word out unnecessarily, “if they thought we were dating, Jack wouldn’t think you like him and Spot would get jealous – especially if it was you – and come running back to me! It’s a fool proof plan!”

“Nothing about that plan sounds fool proof to me, bud.”

Your voice was monotone, and unamused. If this was some weird joke of his, you were not playing along.

“It could work!”

“Okay, but there is no way that we could convince them that we’re dating without convincing most of our grade, too.”

“That doesn’t sound like a problem to me. We fake date, then fake break-up after Spot wants me back and Jack leaves you alone. So, what if kids at school think we’re together? You could do worse.”

Is that what he thought the problem was?

“That’s not the issue here, even if we did try this, and I’m not saying we’re going to, how would we convince anyone that Race Higgins, bachelor extraordinaire, has settled for Y/N Y/L/N?”

He let out a surprised laugh.

“Are you serious? You’re a catch, Y/L/N. People would be into you if you didn’t scare everyone by how freaky smart you are.”

He sighed.

“Look, I really think this could work. And, it sucks to say this, but I really miss Spot. He can be kind of a dickhead, but we were together for so long that he was a constant in my life.”

Were you mistaken or did Race sound actually, genuinely, sad?

“Okay,” you said before you could stop yourself.

He pumped his fist in the air. Your almost-dead phone pinged with a text. You looked at the time and realised that it had gotten darker way faster than you had expected. You needed to get back for dinner.

“Okay,” you continued, “I have to go. But, we’re talking about this tomorrow at school. If we’re going to do this, we need boundaries and rules.”

He gave you another award-winning grin.

“Hey, where are you parked?”, he asked, as you got up to go.

“Oh, I walked here, to escape Jack.”

“And you’re planning on walking home? Now?”

He sounded almost incredulous and you nodded slowly.

“Yeah, I live nearby, it’s no biggie.”

He stood up and pulled some money out of his wallet, paying for the milkshake that he still hadn’t received.

“No way. It is way too late for you to be walking home. I’ll drive you.”

He wouldn’t take no for an answer and soon he was bundling you into his beat-up Toyota. He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, humming along to some pop song on the radio. You studied him while he paid attention to the road. Race Higgins was an incurable flirt, an annoying jock and an arrogant asshole but, he had a kind heart. You had known him for forever, since the beginning of your school careers, and he really wasn’t all that bad. Fake dating him was a good idea, and it could work out well for you, too. If other guys saw you with him, maybe someone would finally show interest in you.

Soon, he pulled into your driveway and you went to open your door.

“Thanks, Race,” you said.

He shrugged.

“Not a problem,” he replied.

As you climbed out, he gave you that same, stupidly attractive smirk.

“Well, aren’t you gonna give me a goodbye kiss?”

He puckered up his lips, jokingly, and you slammed the door shut. He stayed parked in the driveway until you opened the door and glanced back at him. You waved, and he gave a jaunty salute and mouthed the words think about it.

So, you did. Maybe, this could work out for the best. Maybe, it would turn out okay. Thinking about the letters made your stomach turn over, and thinking about Race did, too, but not in quite the same way. This could work, you thought to yourself, the two of you could make this work.


	3. The Contract

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and here’s part three! sorry, this part doesn’t have too much plot stuff, but that’s only bc the next one is gonna be pretty exciting. thank you to everyone who’s been giving this story love, you’re all angels. enjoy! <3

The next day, you stayed at school a little late, figuring you could catch Race after track practice to discuss your… arrangement. It also had the added benefit of allowing you to avoid Jack, who you knew was spending most afternoons at the community theatre across town, helping them paint backdrops for an upcoming show.

 (You weren’t stalking him, or memorising his schedule, or anything. You were just observant. You took note of behaviour. That was it.)

 Race was on his last lap around the track when he saw you sitting on the bleachers. You gave him a little wave and his face lit up with a smile. He winked and kept on running. When he was done, and presumably back in the locker room, your phone pinged with four rapid texts from an unknown number.

  _hey babe I’m just showering and then I’ll come see you ;)_

_this is race btw_

_i’m really good at texting like a boyfriend_

_fake or otherwise_

Even though he couldn’t see you, you rolled your eyes anyway.

_Yeah, okay hotshot_

_Come find me on the bleachers when you’re ready_

When Race showed up, with a red face and wet, curly hair he gave you a cheeky grin, looked around to see some of the track team boys were still milling around, and he placed a quick peck on your cheek. You didn’t let yourself blush, remembering that it was all for show, and you pulled up a Word document on your laptop.

“Okay, so, this is going to be our contract,” you said, preparing yourself for his teasing.

“We have a contract? This isn’t Suits, man. It’s a fake relationship. We don’t need a contract!” 

“Uh, we so  _do_  need a contract, Higgins! We need to draw boundaries and limits and we need to stick to them.”

 He rolled his eyes and moved a little nearer to you on the bench, so that he could see your laptop screen.

 “Wow, nothing like a list of comprehensive rules and guidelines to really bring the romance, huh?”

 “F _ake_ -romance,” you corrected him.

 “Yeah, yeah, whatever. So, what’s first on the contract?”

 “Okay, first up,  _no kissing_.”

 He spluttered comically for a bit.

 “No kissing? How are we supposed to convince anyone that we’re dating if we can’t kiss?”

 “Look, plenty of couples avoid PDA. We can still, like, link pinkies or whatever.”

 “Link pinkies? Wha-? Are you living in the 80s? This isn’t  _Grease_ , babe.”

 “Look, Race, physical stuff may not mean anything to you, but it’s important to me, okay?”

 “Whoever said physical stuff didn’t matter to me?”, he muttered under his breath. But, after a moment he sighed. “Fine, put it on the contract.

 You typed it up and looked expectantly at him.

“Okay, you get no kissing, but, number two, you have to hang out with me and my friends at lunch and come to parties with me.”

“Technically, that’s two  _and_  three. And, I get parties, but why lunch?”

He stared at the ground.

“Spot always sat with us at lunch, so he’d definitely notice if you were with me and the guys.”

“Fair enough.”

You typed that, and then said, “Also, we cannot tell anyone that this is fake. Gossip spreads like wildfire at this school so nobody can know that this isn’t a real relationship. Not even Albert, or your track team buddies.”

“Obviously. And don’t act like I can’t keep secrets. You can’t tell Davey or Katherine. I had journalism with her last year and I’m pretty sure that she would disapprove of this plan.”

He was right, of course he was.

“Fine, deal. Anything else?”

“Oh! You have to come with me on the ski trip trip in December,” he said triumphantly.

Your high school’s annual ski trip was infamous for being the weekend when most of your school lost their virginity. Some schools had the night after prom, but your school had two days and a night spent in the mountains.

“The ski trip? As in the one just before Christmas break? We’d have to stay together for three months to go on that.”

“Listen, no one in a relationship would ever let their boyfriend go on that trip alone. And, if we’ve gotta keep up until then, then so be it. Spot will definitely be there, so he’ll notice if I’m with someone else. We can break up after the trip, no harm, no foul.”

“Okay, fine. But we will not be sharing a room.”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Anything else you want me to add, oh wise one?” you asked.

“Uh, well, there is this one thing,” he said, sounding a little hesitant. You motioned for him to go on. “Well, Spot always thought it would be cute if I wrote him little letters and put them in his locker or gave them to him, or whatever, and I never did it. Um, if he saw me giving those to you, he’d probably get pretty jealous.”

“Badass Spot Conlon, who would beat up anyone who looked at him wrong wanted love letters? That’s so cute!”

“Yeah, there’s a lot more to him than just being angry and bitchy. I bet he’s got his college boyfriend writing him all sorts of letters now,” Race scoffed.

“He left you for a college guy? That’s rough, Race. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, its whatever,” Race quickly said. “So, that’s the contract, then?”

“Yeah,” you said, satisfied.

“Perfect,” he grinned, and his blue eyes were twinkling again.

“You do know that you missed the bus today, right?” he said, after a moment.

“Uh, yeah, I was just gonna walk home.”

“Holy shit, what is it with you and walking? Do you not have your license?”

“Uh, I do. But driving terrifies me and I’d probably end up killing someone – or myself – if I drove every day. But, yeah, I don’t mind walking.”

“Well, if you’re dating me, there will be no walking. I’ll give you a lift home and a ride to school in the morning, if you want one.”

“Are you serious? You don’t need to do that, Race.”

“Nah, I want to. What kind of fake-boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

He smiled at you and you realised that Race had been right the day before. You could do worse. As far as fake high school boyfriends went, Race was probably one of the best options you had.

“I’d appreciate that. Thanks, Higgins.”

“No biggie. Now, let’s go. The Bachelorette is on tonight and I  _need_ to see who Becca chooses.”

Before long, Race had dropped you off at home, with a cheeky wink and promise to text. As soon as you were inside, your phone lit up with a message from him.

_see ya bright and early tomorrow morning, girlfriend ;)_

You rolled your eyes and typed a quick reply. Then, you went to contacts and your hand hovered over Katherine’s name. You’d have to tell her what had happened with Jack and explain that you were now (somehow) dating Race Higgins.

The phone rang twice, and you could practically hear the smile in her voice when she greeted you, as bright and cheerful as ever. You talked for a little bit about school and she told you about college and you realised that you probably couldn’t put it off for any longer. As soon as you said that you had something to tell her, she sounded more than a little worried.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?”

“This story is going to sound pretty weird but hear me out. You know when I was little, I used to write those letters to myself?”

“Yeah, you said that your mom told you to do it if you ever needed help figuring out your feelings.”

“Yeah, well, not all of the letters were to myself. I wrote some to guys I had crushes on and I swear that I never sent any of them out, but, um, somehow, some of those guys, got their letters?”

“Oh, shit. That sounds stressful. Who’d you write to?”

“That’s the thing that I need to tell you… When you first got with Jack, I thought that I was into him and I wrote him a letter. I was never going to send and I’m pretty sure I didn’t actually have feelings for him, I was just a little torn up because it felt like I was losing my best friend to my sister. But, uh, he got the letter. And, I figured that I should tell you before you heard it from someone else. And, also, uh, Race Higgins and I are dating.” The last sentence slipped out so quickly that you hoped she had missed it.

She was silent for a long time and you were worried that the phone might have died while you were talking and then, you heard a sigh.

“That is… a lot. I’m not going to lie, I am pretty pissed off right now. I don’t care if you were into Jack or not. You wrote a love letter to my boyfriend, while I was dating him. And Race Higgins? Like Spot’s Race Higgins? What the fuck? Look, I’ve got a report due tomorrow, and I really don’t need to be stressed right now, so we can just talk about this some other time.”

She was definitely mad.

“Kath, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear.”

“It’s fine. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

She hung up. It was not fine. You felt like crying and crumpling yourself into a ball, when your phone pinged with a notification from Instagram.

_@racehiggins tagged you in a post._

It was some stupid meme, and you knew he’d only tagged you in it because people from school would see it, but it brought a smile to your face, anyway.

Race was getting pretty good at making you smile, and you hadn’t even been fake-dating for a week. Maybe, this would all work out well.


	4. The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chapter four is here! things are getting kinda spicy so i’m excited to hear your thoughts! enjoy! <3

A few weeks later, your best friend, Davey, grabbed your arm and pulled you into an empty classroom.

“This whole thing with Race is crazy! I can’t believe that you’ve been harbouring a crush on the king of the cafeteria crowd this entire time!”

You grinned at his surprise.

“I know, it all happened so quickly! I’m as shocked as you are!”

Davey, like all of your and Race’s friends, had been told the official story. You ran into Race at Jacobi’s, the pair of you started talking, you bonded over ugly middle school pictures, you began speaking every day and, then, he asked you out. It was an easy story to stick to, but it did hurt a little to lie to Davey.

Just before he accosted you in Mr Bunsen’s homeroom, Davey had seen Race sidle up to you in the middle of the cafeteria, link his pinky with yours, and pull you in to kiss you on the forehead. He slipped a note into your hand, in front of everyone, including Spot, and told you to have a good day, before you headed to your next lesson.

“You know,” Davey said, gently, “you’ve really brightened up since he came around. I’m happy that you aren’t pining over Jack anymore.”

“I was never pining after Jack! He was just the cute boy next door. The feelings were more instinctual than they were real.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” he said, with a sarcastic smile.

“Anyway, I have to get to trig, I’ll see you later?”

“Sure thing, kid. By the way, are you and Race going to Albert’s tonight?”

You paused in the doorway and turned back to him.

“Uh, I don’t think so. Why, are you going?”

Davey was pretty similar to you, in the sense that he preferred to fly under the radar at school. He was charismatic and funny, so you weren’t surprised that he’d been invited. You were a little surprised, though, that he wanted to go. Davey gave you a sheepish grin.

“He’s in my English class, so we’ve been talking a little. I need someone to talk to if I do go, so  _please_  think about coming.”

“I’ll talk to Race,” you said, with no intention to follow through.

That afternoon Race had track, and you didn’t feel like waiting so you took the bus home. It was odd, to be back on the bus after so much time in Race’s car, but you didn’t really mind. You got home a little after four and decided that, that evening would be a good time for an avocado face mask. Mr Pulitzer – or Joe, as he insisted that you call him – was working late, so he wouldn’t be around to bother you. Around six, you put on your comfiest clothes and settled in to watch  _The Proposal_. Sandra Bullock had just barely proposed to Ryan Reynolds when you heard the doorbell ring. You went to answer it, and there was Race, looking at you with that crooked smile.

“Hey, you do know it’s not a costume party, right? Although your impression of Jim Carrey in the mask is spot on.”

“Uh, what? What party? Also, shut up, avocado is moisturising!”

He frowned at you.

“Seriously? Did you not read the letter I wrote you today? Albert’s party is tonight and you’re coming with.”

You were pretty sure that letter was still folded up in the pocket of your jeans. You started to protest, but he quickly cut you off.

“No arguing, parties are in the contract, remember?”

Ugh. That stupid contract.

“Fine, come inside. You can wait here while I get ready.”

You positioned him on the couch and started to leave the room, before turning back around.

“And, don’t touch  _anything_.”

He gave you a smile that was the opposite of innocent and shooed you away to get dressed. You quickly did your makeup and put on something cute. It was a party, so you probably wouldn’t need to be too formal, right? Before you left, you slipped a necklace. It was silver, with a blue flower pendant. It had belonged to your mother. You tried to wear it often enough, but it felt a little too fancy for school. With your pretty outfit, though, it looked good.

You walked back into the living room to find Race cooing over baby pictures that you didn’t even know you had.

“Awww, little Y/N was so cute! What happened?”, he joked, as soon as he heard you walk into the room behind him.

“Actually, Higgins, I’m still plenty cute. Cute enough to settle for you, anyway.”

As soon as he turned around, the smile was wiped off his face.

“Uh, yeah, you are  _definitely_  still cute.”

You blushed a little but ignored the compliment. You were getting used to Race’s flirting, slowly but surely. Soon, you were back in his familiar car and he was driving you to Albert’s. As you pulled into the driveway, you reached back to scratch your neck, and the necklace you had been wearing slipped off.

“Shit,” you said aloud, and Race glanced at you. "

"All good?"

“Yeah, I’m okay, but I think the clasp on this broke. It was my mom’s, so I don’t want to lose it, but I haven’t got any pockets to put it in.”

“Ah, don’t worry, I’ll hold onto it,” he said lightly, picking it up and slipping it into the pocket of his black jeans.

You both climbed out of the car and walked up to the front door. He paused for a moment and glanced at you, “You ready for this, Y/L/N?”

You took his hand and nudged his shoulder with yours.

“Born ready, Higgins.”

He chuckled, gripped your hand, and pushed the door open.

The party was in full swing. It wasn’t anything crazy, but you had never seen so many people from your high school letting loose before. There was music playing, and a boy with bright red hair waved you over from a table in the corner, playing what looked like beer pong.

“Hey, Higgins! You made it!”

The boys did a weird bro-hug and the boy, whom you now recognised as Albert, grinned at you.

“And this is Race’s mystery girl! I’ve seen you at school, but it’s good to finally meet you! I’m Albert, but everyone calls me Al,” he swept you into a warm hug.

Race grinned. He was definitely happy to see Al being so welcoming to you, especially since most of his boys hated Spot before, during and after their relationship.

“You okay hanging here for a little? I’ll go get us some drinks.”

You nodded, and Race jetted off. Al gave you a crash course in the rules of beer pong and soon, you were dominating. Your hand eye coordination was better than you had expected. Your eye caught on Davey, across the room, talking to… Was that Jack? As soon as the thought entered your head, Jack looked up and said something to Davey, before patting his shoulder and heading for you. You groaned, internally. There was no way you could get out of this conversation now.

When he reached you, he put a hand on your arm.

“Hey, can we talk somewhere? I’ve been calling you and trying to get a hold of you for a while.”

“Uh, yeah, I know. We can go stand by the pool, if you want. It looks kind of empty there.”

He nodded, and you followed him, a little reluctantly. So, this was happening. As soon as you were in the less crowded area outside, he stopped and started talking.

“So, are you seriously dating Race?”

Why was he talking about  _this_?

“Yeah. Is that a problem for you?”, you may have sounded a little defensive, but you were getting tired of people thinking that you couldn’t land a cute, popular boy.

“No, just, since when is he your type?”

“What would you know about my type, Jack?”

“Nothing! You’re just so sweet and innocent and he’s, like, a popular, jock-y dickhead.”

You bristled at his patronising tone.

“Well, maybe, I’m not as innocent as you thought, then.”

“That’s not what I meant! Ever since Kath and I ended things, shit has been awkward between us and then I get your letter and, I’m just incredibly confused.”

And, there it was. The letter.

“Look, that letter was how I felt a long time ago, and I’m with Race, now. Nothing can happen between us, okay? We  _cannot_  do that to Kath.”

“Kathrine hasn’t talked to me since she left for university. And, I don’t even know what I feel for you, Y/N. I just,” he trailed off. “I already lost Kath, I really don’t want to lose you, too. You’re one of the most important people in my life.”

“I’m sorry, Jack, but, a relationship is never going to happen between us, get it?”

Just then, an arm snaked around your waist. Race was there, with two cups, one in either hand.

“Hey, I’ve been lookin’ for you. Is everything okay over here?”

He addressed the question to both of you, but he was looking at you, searchingly.

“Yeah, we were just finishing up. Let’s get back inside, Race, it’s kind of cold out here. I’ll see you around, Jack.”

Jack nodded stiffly and watched you go with Race. As you found your way back to beer pong table, Race handed you a cup with something fruity and alcoholic in it and you explained everything that had happened. His hand around your waist squeezed you lightly.

“You’re all good though, right?”

“Yeah, I’m all good, now.”

You spotted Davey again and excused yourself from Race and the boys at the table.  Albert groaned and those who were playing against you cheered. After just a few moments, they were already starting to grow on you.

You chatted idly to Davey about school, and your relationship and you found that you didn’t have to fabricate any of the joy in your voice when you talked about Race.

Race, in another room, was having a similar conversation about you, with Spot.

“I just don’t know how you moved on so quickly!”

“How I moved on? Spot, you were some guy from NYU before I could say anything.”

“Okay, yeah, but at least it was someone you didn’t know! You moved on with Y/N Y/L/N!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that people you inexplicably disliked were off limits. In case you had forgotten,  _Sean_ , you broke up with me.”

Race turned to leave and as he did, something shiny slipped out of his pocket. In his frustration, he didn’t notice, and Spot picked it up, as Race slammed the door shut. It was a pretty little necklace, not Race’s style at all. It must have been yours. He slipped it into his pocket, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to hold onto it for a little. It might come in handy.

Race heard you laughing before he saw you. You were chatting to Romeo and laughing as the boy waggled his eyebrows at something. Race put a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, you want to get something to eat? I think Jacobi’s is still open.”

You were surprised, but you didn’t mind.

“Yeah, of course, let’s head out.”

Romeo winked at you and you said your goodbyes and headed to Jacobi’s Deli, ordering a plate of fries and two chocolate shakes. You hadn’t had enough to get drunk, not by a long shot, but, you were, in your limited experience, a lightweight, so you felt warm and happy and loose. Race could have been the cause of it, but it was easier to blame it on whatever had been in your cup at the party.

Race’s phone pinged with a text, and he frowned at it.

“What’s got you so glum, chum?”

He looked up, brows still furrowed.

“It’s, uh, Spot. He confuses me. He barely talked to me at the party, but now that we’ve left he blows up my phone. I just don’t get him.”

“Yeah, he was always kind of possessive, even when you were together. Are you gonna text him back?”

“Nah. I’ll probably just call him when I get home.”

You nodded, slowly.

“So, you guys still talk on the phone?”

“I mean, not as much as we used to, but, yeah. Before I was dating him, we were friends. It’s difficult to just let that go.”

You nodded again but didn’t reply.

“What? Is that weird? You’ve got your judge-y face on, again.”

“No,” you protested, “it’s not weird. I just don’t think it’s the healthiest thing ever.”

He scoffed.

“Yeah, because you’re the relationship expert, here.”

“Uh, excuse you, Higgins. You’ve dated one more person than me, and you’re obsessed with him. You’re not one to talk.”

“I’m not obsessed!”, he argued, and then sighed. “You know, you are honest to a fault.”

“Yeah, well. It’s useless to lie about some things.”

He paused for a moment, and you could see something in his eyes that looked like a question brewing.

“Okay, then. If you’re being honest tonight, I’ve got a question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“You’re pretty, smart, funny and pretty much everything most guys are looking for. So, why haven’t you had a boyfriend yet? And don’t say that it’s because no one is interested, because I know for a fact that Finch tried to ask you out a couple years ago.”

You exhaled, heavily.

“I just-“ you trailed off. “Dating and love and romance is so easy to write about, and so much fun to read about, but, in real life, it terrifies me. And I don’t think it’s about putting myself out there or whatever. I just feel like as soon as I get attached to someone, then it’ll hurt a lot when they’re gone.”

He studied you.

“That makes a lot of sense. Do you mean gone, like your mom?”

You sighed again and willed your heart to stop hurting.

“I guess.”

“I-I’m sorry for bringing it up, it must be tough to talk about.”

“No, it was a long time ago. I miss her, but it’s not as bad as it used to be, I guess.”

There was another beat of silence.

“Uh, I don’t know if you know this, but, um, I’m adopted.”

You were a little surprised, but more grateful that he changed the subject.

“Yeah, of course I know. I’ve known you forever, Race.”

“Well, uh, my birth father contacted me a while ago, like two summers ago and, uh, he wanted to meet up and, I guess, talk to me. So, I went to some restaurant and he never showed. He hasn’t talked to me since. And, I know that it’s not the same, like, at all, but, um. Yeah. I haven’t told that to anyone, until now.”

He laughed nervously, and you reached across the table to cover your hand with his.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m really sorry, Race. You deserve better,” you said, gently.

He hummed and then flipped your hand over and absently stroked it with his thumb.

“You know, for someone who’s scared of relationships, you’re not doing half bad in this one,” he said.

You grinned brightly.

“Yeah, well, this is different. It’s just pretend.”

He quickly dropped your hand and cleared his throat.

“Uh, yeah, you’re completely right.”

You frowned.

“Are we good, Race?”

“Huh? Yeah, we’re great. We should get going though. I’ve still gotta drop you at home.”

He stood up abruptly and put some money down for the bill.

That night, when you got home, you stood silently in your room for a moment. Something had been off with Race that evening. You shook your head to clear the thoughts away, and your phone pinged with a text. This time, it wasn’t Race. It was Katherine. She wanted to talk.


	5. The Phone Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yay! part five is here! this part is kind of short, but it’s also kind of dramatic (i hope). i think that there’ll probably be two more chapters after this one, and i am so not ready to let this story go. as always, message me w/ any questions or theories that you have. enjoy! <3

“I spoke to Jack,” were the first words out of Katherine’s mouth when you answered her call. It was Facetime, this time, so you could see the shiny tears in her eyes. She didn’t give you a chance to reply before she continued.

“He texted me a half hour, or so, ago. He said that you told him that you have no feelings for him anymore. Is that true?”

Her voice was measured when she asked, but you knew her well-enough to know that her calm exterior was a practiced façade. She’d learnt it at her father’s company dinners when old white men grinned down at her condescendingly when she said that she wanted more than to be known as Joe Pulitzer’s rich daughter. She was good at it, but you knew better.

“Katherine, I  _promise_  that I feel nothing even remotely romantic for Jack. I would never hurt you like that, you know I wouldn’t.”

There was quiet for a moment, and then she exhaled, and grinned.

“Thank god! Do you know how difficult it was not to talk to you?”

You matched her smile and laughed.

“Yeah, I have some idea. My life has kind of imploded in the past couple weeks.”

You told her the official story of your relationship with Race. You wanted desperately to be honest, but Race had been right. She’d freak out and probably fly down to yell at you. Fake dating was exactly the kind of logistical nightmare that she’d hate.

Two weeks into December and week before the dreaded ski trip, you and Davey found yourselves huddled under the bleachers.

“Davey, remind me again why this is the only place we can cram for history?”

“Uh, duh, because we aren’t supposed to know about the ‘pop’ quiz. If Bunsen catches us learning, he’ll change the date again, and we won’t be able to see it coming!”

You rolled your eyes, at him, but got back to your notes.

“So, what changed in New York state labour laws in 1899?”, you quizzed him.

Before he could answer, you heard footsteps above you, and, then, voices.

“I don’t know, Race, it’s, like, you just don’t have time for me anymore. Whenever I see you, you’re with her!”

“What do you want from me, Spot? You want me to wait around until you’re done playing games? Why don’t you just hang out with your Brooklyn boyfriend?”

You swallowed and nudged Davey, motioning with your head that the two of you should get out of there.

“No way,” he whispered, low enough that you barely heard it. “They’re talking about you!”

Davey was your closest friend, and after Spot had cut the both of you off, neither of you ever found out why. He claimed to be over it, but Davey had a big heart. Spot’s betrayal hit him harder than it did you, and he wasn’t about to miss an opportunity to get some dirt on Conlon.

“He’s not like you, Race! He isn’t a good listener!”

“Yeah, well, maybe that’s because he doesn’t wait on your hand and foot like I used to. I’m done dating someone that I idolise, Spot. Do you think that’s love?”

Race sounded a little out of breath, and you had to strain to hear his next words.

“Spot, you cannot keep doing this to me.”

There was a beat of silence.

“Is she coming on the ski trip? You know that’s been our thing since we started high school, Racer.”

“Why would that be your business? The trip’s in a week and you have a  _boyfriend_.”

Spot sighed.

“I know, but maybe by then… I won’t.”

Something creaked and you heard Race’s scoff and his footsteps stomping away. After a while, Spot followed.

Davey turned to you with wide eyes.

“Dude. Spot is trying his luck with your boyfriend.”

You gave him a small, tight smile.

“We should get to history. Don’t need Bunsen to think we’re bunking.”

The next day, you ran into Jack. Everything was still a little awkward, but it had been a couple weeks since the party and you knew that he and Kath were back on speaking terms. The conversation you’d over heard was still playing itself on a loop in your head. Race was your fake boyfriend, but he wouldn’t cheat on you, right? And, why did the idea of him getting back with Spot put a pit in your stomach? That had been the plan, hadn’t it? Jack must have seen that something was bothering you when he stopped you in the hallway at the end of the school day.

“Hey, you look stressed. Is everything alright with you and Race?”

You suddenly remembered why Jack had meant so much to you. He was kind and intelligent, but it was more than that. It always felt like he could read your mind, before you even figured out what you were thinking.

“Uh, no, but Race-drama is probably the last thing you want to talk about.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t care. Tell me what’s going on.”

So, you did. You told him everything, leaving out the fact that it was all supposed to be fake.

“I guess,” you concluded, “I just feel like the longer I’m with him, the more it’s going to hurt when he inevitably goes running back to Spot. I could kick myself for not seeing this coming.”

“Uh, shit, I don’t know what to tell you. That sucks. I’m sorry you have to go through that.” He reached out an arm and pulled you into a side hug.

“Y/N?”, you heard someone hiss at you from across the hallway. You both looked up to see Race standing there, with a calculus textbook in his hand.

You pulled away from Jack.

“Hey, do you need a lift today? Should I wait?”, he asked kindly

“Thanks, Jack, but you’d better not.”

You headed to Race and pulled him into an emptier corridor. His voice was sharp when he spoke again.

“What the hell? What do you think people will say when they see my girlfriend cozying up with Jack Kelly?”

“Ex _cuse_  me? What do you think people will say when they hear that you’re practically  _begging_  to get back with Spot?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I heard you talking on the bleachers.”

“Oh, so you’re spying on me now?”

“Not intentionally!”

He scoffed.

“Okay, so I was talking to Spot. So, what?”

“Yeah, exactly. So, what? Look, neither of us expected this to go on for so long. Spot obviously wants you back, Jack and I are cool. I think we can call it.”

He looked hurt.

“I cannot believe that you’re trying to end this before the ski trip. It’s in the contract!”

“Yeah, only if we’re still together.”

“We  _are_  still together! You’re just trying to pull out because you’re scared.”

You stepped nearer to him, and you could see his chest rising and falling.

“What do I have to be scared of, Higgins?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Somewhere, you hear a bell ring.

How do you tell your fake boyfriend that you can’t go skiing with him because you’re developing real feelings? You can’t. Instead, you take a step back. From a little further away, it’s easier to avoid the sparkle in his eyes, or to stop your hand from grabbing onto his fidgeting one.

“Fine. Whatever. I’ll see you on Friday. The bus leaves at seven, right?”

He looks a little shocked that you’ve given in.

“I, uh. Yeah.”

“Cool. Don’t save me a seat.”


	6. The Falling Apart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> don’t ask me if I studied today, it’s none of your business. jk, i didn’t, so here’s part six, instead. this one has everything: drama, making out, an outdoor hot tub in the snowy mountains in winter(?) and, like, soft angst (i’m not sorry). there’ll probably be one part after this. enjoy! <3

Race saved you a seat. He didn’t brighten up when he saw you, not exactly. The corners of his mouth just pulled into a smile, he straightened up in his seat and his eyes went wide and bright, like he hadn’t expected you to follow through. He was sitting by the window and he patted the empty seat next to him when his eyes met yours, as you stood in the aisle of the bus.

You looked around desperately for anyone else that you could sit with. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to sit with Race – you did,  _so badly_ – you just didn’t want to catch yourself getting used to the way his arm brushed against yours, or the way he always smelled sweet, but forest-y, or the way that he smiled droopily when he got tired. Race would be leaving you for Spot, and you could deal with that, as long as you didn’t get used to him. You saw Davey, sitting with Jack. They were talking animatedly. Strange, you were sure that neither of them had come on this trip in previous years. Finally, your eyes landed on Romeo, sitting near the back, with an empty seat next to him. There was your solution.

As you walked past, Race grabbed on to your arm, gently.

“Hey,” he sounded nervous, “I, uh, decided to save you a seat after all.”

“That’s alright,” you said, moving past quickly enough that you missed the way his face fell.

You crashed into the seat next to Romeo and he looked up in surprise, pulling out one of his earphones.

“I saw lover boy sitting up front. You’re not sitting with him?”

“Uh, not if I can help it. This isn’t saved for anyone, is it?”

Romeo frowned a little, but he shook his head.

“It’s all yours. This feels kind of déjà vu-y, but do you want to talk about anything?”

“Not, really,” you answered, honestly. You’d made peace with it all in your head. Race wasn’t your boyfriend, you were just a placeholder for Spot. It was okay, really. You’d get over him.

“Well, alright. Wanna share music?”

Romeo offered you an earphone and you smiled and took it. You didn’t need to talk, but you could do with a little company. And, besides, the music distracted you from Spot Conlon sliding into the seat next to Race.

You arrived at the resort in a couple of hours. Chaperones stated some of the broad rules of the trip, but you were pretty sure that they didn’t expect anyone to follow them. Rooms were assigned, and no one paid attention, having already paired up with their roommates of choice. You and Romeo had agreed on the bus that you would share. You had packed in face masks and he had a backpack full of candy, so you hoped that it would be a good night. As you were headed up, Race stopped you. He was wearing ridiculous snowboarding goggles and a nervous smile. You kept your hands in your pockets, so that you didn’t try to do anything stupid, like run them through his fluffy hair.

“Hey, we should talk.”

 _No_ , you decided,  _you should not_.

You didn’t reply, so he carried on speaking.

“There’s a hot tub and hot chocolate at a lodge at the bottom of the mountain?”

You shook your head.

“Sorry. I can’t ski or snowboard. I can’t even get the boots on. Romeo and I are having a night in.”

“Why did you come on this trip if you can’t ski or snowboard?” Spot’s voice came from over your shoulder.

You started to reply, but he just spoke over you.

“I’ll race you down to the lodge, Higgins,” he smiled at Race, who was still looking at you, searchingly.

“Last one to the bottom’s a rotten egg,” he agreed, after you remained expressionless. After a moment longer, he scoffed at you and walked away. Spot was still behind you.

“You know, it’s really nice that you’re okay with your boyfriend talking to his ex. I know I wouldn’t be.”

He walked away before you could reply, and you ran a hand through your hair. Romeo, still standing next to, let out a low whistle.

“I know you said that you don’t want to talk, but we are discussing this as soon as we get up to the room.”

He wasn’t kidding.

The pair of you were lying on your beds, while some Lifetime movie played on the room’s only TV channel. Your faces were masked, and candy was spread out, ready for the eating. You were usually one for comfort eating, but you still felt a little sick and you couldn’t stop thinking of Race and Spot, probably making out in a hot tub.

Romeo threw a balled-up chocolate wrapper at you.

“So, tell me everything.”

You gave up, and you did. It was easier to tell Romeo about this than it would been to tell Katherine or Davey. It felt like, with Romeo, there would be less judgement, so, you told him  _everything_. You told him about the fake relationship, the nights at Jacobi’s, meeting Race’s adoptive parents, his dinner with you and Pulitzer and, of course, your new-found feelings.

“So, it was all fake? All of it?”

“Well, from his side, yeah.”

Romeo laughed, lightly.

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure it was.” The sarcasm in his tone was unmissable.

“What are you talking about? This is just the latest game that he and Spot are playing.”

“Well, then Race Higgins must be one hell of an actor. He should try for the musical, become the next Troy Bolton.”

You scoffed.

“Don’t make that sound! That boy seriously looks at you like you’re a sexy, little rubix cube.”

“A sexy  _what_?”

“Like, you’re a puzzle. He doesn’t understand you, but he’s trying to figure you out, and he’s having the time of his life doing it.”

You met Romeo’s eyes.

“Seriously,” his voice was gentler this time. “The fake relationship was  _his_  idea. And, have you heard him say that he wants to get with Spot since you started this whole thing?” He sighed, and his voice was raised when he started speaking again. “A hot guy is waiting for you, in a hot tub, and you’re sitting here, eating store-brand chocolates with a gay man.  Find a way down to that lodge, Y/N. They’ve probably got ski lifts. He’s into you, idiot. You’re, like, the only heterosexual couple that I support.”

You stood up. Romeo was right. You’d probably regret not doing this, if you chickened out. You had written Race a love letter, and he hadn’t minded. This was your chance to actually do something for once, instead of just writing about doing it. You grabbed your coat, and a scarf and ruffled Romeo’s hair. You ran down to reception, and the nice lady told you that they did have ski lifts. Romeo was right about that too. All the way down, you thought about what you were going to say. Rehearsing an explanation wouldn’t work with Race, he’d see through it. You were honest with him about everything and, he liked that. There was no point in lying about this.

You found your way to the lodge, and your heart was beating a little too fast for you to be worried about the cold. You followed the signs to the hot tub and you saw Race’s back. He was alone, no Spot in sight. You walked up, willing your hands to stop shaking.

“All by yourself out here?” you asked, standing on the side of the hot tub.

He glanced at you, a little surprised, but he didn’t reply.

“So, you’re ignoring me now?”

“Oh, I’m the one ignoring  _you_? That’s funny.”

He laughed, humourlessly.

Okay. You deserved that. You sighed and leaned down to unzip your boots. Then, you took off your coat, and slipped your feet into the water.

“Well, sorry that I’m not a great skier. You know, a good fake boyfriend would have taught me,” you tried to joke.

“Oh, yeah, I’m supposed to a good, sweet boyfriend after you refuse to spend any time in my presence. Okay, sure.”

“I was trying to give you space. Besides, I thought you’d be glad that you could spend time with Spot.”

He looked at you, disbelieving.

“God, for someone who gets all As, you can be so dense.”

“What?”

“Yeah, dense! I wanted to sit next to you, Y/N. I even packed snacks. I went past Jacobi’s, before, and got you a chocolate milkshake to-go.”

“What? They don’t have takeaway there.”

“Yeah, I know. It was in a coffee cup and the waitress made me tip her a, frankly, exploitative amount.”

You met his eyes, and they were more serious than you’d ever seen, without a single trace of his ever-present humour.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. And, if I begged a waitress to get you the drink we always share, then, that means…”

He trailed off and looked at you expectantly.

“You must really like chocolate milkshakes?”

He grimaced and swept his hand through the water.

“You are impossible.”

You leaned forward on your knees and looked him in the eyes. They were as blue as ever, and a little sad.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t sit with you on the bus.”

“It’s okay.”

You stayed like that for a moment, just looking at one another. He broke eye contact, exhaled lightly out of his nose and smiled a little, at something in his head.

You sighed and slipped into the water.

“Uh, you’re coming in. In your pyjamas.”

You laughed lightly, “I’m not a big fan of this sweater, anyway. And, I didn’t bring a bathing suit.”

His elbows were still resting on the side of the tub. He looked amused, and kind of confused. You moved towards him in the water, until your knees were touching his.

“Hi.”

He laughed, delightedly.

“There is no one like you.”

His hands were on your waist and he pulled you so that you were sitting on his lap, facing him. You sat like that for a moment, just looking at one another. Your hands were on his neck, and he felt warm. You weren’t sure if it was because of the water, but you hoped that it wasn’t. Your faces were so near together that you could smell his minty breath and feel it on your face. You leaned forward and you could hear him chuckle.

He searched your face, and suddenly, his lips were on yours. You had kissed once before, but this time, it was different. Warmth travelled through your body and you kissed back, gingerly. He smiled against your lips, and pulled away, chuckling when you chased his mouth with yours.

“What?”, you asked.

“Nothing. Just had to look at you, to remember that this is real. You taste like chocolate.”

You laughed, thoroughly charmed. And then, his lips were back on yours, and you didn’t think about the contract, or your relationship, or anything else. All that mattered, was his lips on yours, not for show, not for anyone to see. This was real. Your hands travelled over his shoulders, explored the planes of his back, and he gripped your hips, tightly, like he was afraid you’d slip away. You don’t know how long you stayed like that, but after a while, you both pulled away, panting.

“Hot chocolate?”, he asked, with bright eyes, and a familiar smirk. His hair was messy, where your hands had travelled through it and his pupils were blown a little wide. He looked well-kissed. You grinned at him, and nodded, unable to stop yourself from pecking him, quickly, on his forehead. He giggled a little, and you had never seen him look this happy.

You slipped away, and both of you climbed out. He bundled you in a warm towel, slipped on a robe and grabbed your hand. He looked at you, with something new in his eyes. You suddenly decided that you didn’t want hot chocolate. You felt plenty warm when he looked at you like that.

You rode back up on the ski lift, and, whenever he let go of your hand, it was only to put his arm around your shoulder or stroke your face. He walked you to your room, and stopped outside the door, holding your face in his hands.

“This is real,” he said, softly, and leaned down to kiss you. It was sweet, and so, so gentle. He kissed like you were some precious, fragile thing. At that moment, you felt like you were the opposite of breakable. He pulled away, and twisted your doorknob around, holding the door open for you.

“Good night, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help, but lean up to kiss him again, quickly, before disappearing into your room. Romeo was asleep, but as you changed clothes and piled into bed, you knew that you wouldn’t fall asleep easily, at all. You texted Race first, this time.

_Sleep tight, Higgins._

You locked your phone and put on the night stand, grinning foolishly.  _This is real_ , you repeated in your head, over and over again, remember his voice. He had sounded  _wrecked_.  _This is real._ You fell asleep thinking of how much warmer the bed would be, if he was lying there with you.

As you climbed on the bus, ready to ride home, everyone clapped. You furrowed your brows. Romeo was sitting with Darcy and Race was near the back, waving lightly.

He pecked your cheek as you sat down next to him.

“Hey, you didn’t tell anyone about last night, did you?” you asked.

He shook his head.

“Nah, don’t worry about the clapping. That’s just how everyone acts with couples on the trip.”

You nodded, satisfied. You liked the way that he said “couples”.

“Hey, I’m planning on sleeping this trip away. Can I use you as a pillow?”

You nodded again, and Race gave you the sweetest grin, resting his head on your shoulder and his eyes. You closed yours, too, and missed Spot scanning over the two of you, and scowling, as he searched for a seat.

The trip back home felt short. You and Race napped a little and chatted lowly, swapping music and stories. There was a tension between you, but it wasn’t bad. It was good kind of tension. It felt like there was something new between you, although anyone looking in would see just another couple. You both knew that, after that night, you were more than what you’d been.

When you got home, you and Race spilt ways to get your things. He was giving you a ride home, like always. You went to retrieve your bag and, as you pulled it out, there was Spot, standing next to you. He was short, but he had a presence. You’d always noticed it, even when you were friends. He smiled at you, but it didn’t feel very kind.

“I just wanted to say again, how sweet it is how cool you are about me and Race.”

You grimaced.

“What are you talking about, Spot?”

“Well, most people would be mad about their boyfriend spending the night in an ex’s room, but you are just  _so_  trusting. I remember that about you from middle school.”

You didn’t reply, he was just saying this to make you mad, right? It wasn’t true.

He slipped a hand into his pocket and pulled something shiny out, fiddling with it. It was a little silver chain with… Was that a blue flower? You realised that you hadn’t ever gotten your necklace back from Race.

“Where did you get that?” the words were sharp, as you had intended them to be.

Spot looked up in faux-surprise.

“Oh, this? Racer gave it to me. It’s kind of tacky, but I think it’s still sweet of him.”

Your face heated up and you snatched the necklace out of Spot’s hands.

“That doesn’t belong to you.”

You around wildly, and Race met your eyes. He could see the fire behind them and he looked perplexed. You marched over to him, forgetting about your luggage.

“What. The. Fuck? You gave Spot my mom’s necklace?”

“What? No. No way. I don’t know where he got that.”

Race reached up to put his hands on your shoulders. You stepped out of his reach.

“And, you were in his room last night?”

“Yeah, but, nothing happened! I just-”

You laughed, bitterly, and he stopped speaking. You could feel tears forming in your eyes.

“I should have known. Was this just a joke to you, Race? Am I just a joke to you?”

“No! You’re not, at all. Look, just get in my car, and we can talk about this on the way home.”

“If you think that I am getting in a car with you, right now, you are an  _idiot_. I would rather take the bus, no, I would rather  _walk home_ , than get into a car with you right now. Fuck you, Higgins.”

The once-affectionate nickname was all barb. You turned and walked away from him, and you didn’t glance back. If you had, you would have seen a tear drip down his face, and confusion in his eyes.

You waited, alone, for the bus, and held it together for the short ride home. As soon as you pulled your luggage in through the door behind you, you sank the floor, crying. You felt like a fool. You heard steps and looked up. Somehow, there was Katherine. Her eyes widened, and she pulled you up and wrapped you in a hug. God, you had missed her.

“W-What are you doing here?” you barely got the words out, as she held you tightly.

“I’m home for Christmas, and you really look like you need a big sister right now.” You nodded, and she held you for a little bit longer. She didn’t push you to talk about anything. She never did. She knew that you would tell her everything, eventually. Instead, she pulled you into the kitchen.

“We’re making a gingerbread house, no arguments allowed.”

You smiled at her. How did she always know exactly what you needed? She was busy icing the roof when the doorbell rang, and you ran to answer. It was the 23rd, so there were probably carollers.

No one was singing, but, standing in your doorway, there was one Race Higgins. He looked about as fragile as you felt.

“You need to leave.”

You did not let your voice shake.

“Look, I just have to talk to you. I have to explain myself. I went to Spot’s room, yes.”

You scoffed, you were sure you didn’t need to hear anymore.

“You need to leave, Race.”

“No, just listen to me! I went to his room to-“, he was cut off by a third voice, coming from behind him.

“She asked you leave, Higgins.”

He whirled around to see Jack Kelly.

“Oh, of course you’re here.”

He turned back to you, and his eyes were furious. “This isn’t about me and you or me and Spot. It never was, right? You were looking for an excuse to end things this entire time because you’re still in love with Jack goddamn Kelly, right?”

You looked at him in shock, but before you could reply, you heard a gasp from behind you. Katherine.

“You’re still  _what_?” She glared at you and slammed the door shut behind her. You looked between the two boys on your porch.

“I cannot do this right now.”

You turned and rushed inside, just as Katherine was flying up the stairs. She turned around when she reached the top, and you could see tears running down her cheeks. She looked shattered.

“You’re my  _sister_. You fucking  _promised_.”


	7. The Sex Tape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay, so i know that i said this would probably be the last part, but y’all got pranked, and it’s not.it’s not intentional at all, i want to get the last part perfect before i post it, so this is the first part of the end, i guess. massive love to all of you for reading this! <3

The video was everywhere. It began on Instagram, you think, at least that where you first caught wind of it. You were tagged in the original post, @’d all over the comments and Davey had DM’d it to you, with about a thousand question marks. You didn’t recognise the account name, but that original video had 129 views. You didn’t doubt that your entire school had seen it, and that it had been screen recorded, screenshotted and sent to everyone you knew. It had been less than a day since you had talked to Katherine, but, now, when you were sick to you stomach, you knew she was the only person who’d know what to do.

You knocked on her bedroom door, so lightly that you were scared she wouldn’t hear. You heard a quiet “come in” and pushed open the door. She swivelled in her desk chair to see you.

“I’m busy.”

“I-I know you don’t want to see me ever again, and I’m not here to say anything about Ja- about any boys. I just,” your voice cracked, and your eyes filled with tears. “I need you Kath, please.”

You walked towards her and your trembling hands passed her your phone, open to the Instagram account. The video showed a couple in a hot tub, a girl on a boy’s lap. His hair was fluffy and blond, and you knew that if he opened his eyes, they would be piercing blue. The girl was impossibly close to him with her hands tangled in his hair and running over his shoulders. It was less than a minute long, but you doubted anyone would need to see anymore.They probably jumped to the same conclusion before the video was over. You had somehow made a sex tape before you’d lost your virginity.

Katherine immediately went into journalist mode.

“Okay, well, you can only see your back and there are no identifying features. If you hadn’t been tagged, it could have been anyone. It’ll be worse for Race, I’m sure.”

You chuckled, although nothing was funny.

“It’s never worse for boys.”

You crashed down on Katherine’s bed and clutched a pillow to your face.

“God, how did I let this happen? I’m so stupid!”

You felt a weight next to you and Katherine pulled the pillow away.

“Hey, it’s not your fault. This could have happened to anyone. I’ll take care of it, I promise.”

She grabbed your arms and pulled you up, so that you were sitting next to her on the bed.

“I know you’re only being nice to me because I accidentally made a sex tape and you feel bad, but I’m really sorry,” you said.

She sighed, long-sufferingly.

“I’m glad you told me about this, even if you did hide the fact that you’re in love with my ex-boyfriend.”

Your eyes widened, and you grabbed her hands frantically, but there was a glint in her eyes and she giggled, a little. Was she… joking?

“Jack called me last night, and, uh, he told me that you and Race are, and I’m quoting him here, ‘the most in love couple he’s ever seen’. He’s pretty sure that you’re not in love with him.”

Your jaw dropped.

“He told you? And you still spent all this time ignoring me?”

She raised her hands in surrender and spoke again.

“I came by your room last night, to talk, and I saw something on your desk.”

She pulled a piece of paper out of her pocket and unfolded it. It was a typed-up document, with the word “contract” in emboldened capital letters at the top. You groaned, and she handed it to you.

“I wasn’t ignoring you. I was waiting for you to tell me about this.”

You flopped back on the bed, again. How had everything fallen apart so quickly? You sighed, and the entire story spilled out. You began with the letters and ended with the day before, where everything had gone to pieces. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as you thought of how you had left things with Race.

“And, I guess, I was scared that if I told you it was fake, then it really would be,” you ended. “I just wanted to believe that it was real so badly that I guess I fooled myself into thinking it was.”

“Hey,” she laid on her side, facing you. “I saw the way he looked at you last night. I don’t know what happened between him and Spot, but he looked at you like he had some real feelings. I’ve never seen a boy that torn up before.”

You leaned into her and she wrapped you in a tight hug. The pair of you lay like that for a little while, just cuddling, before she giggled a little and pulled away.

“You will not believe the college stories that I’ve got for you.”

And, just like that, everything between you was good again. It was normal and peaceful, and you had your sister back. Christmas came and went without any incident, and so did New Years’, but it didn’t really feel the same. The post was gone, and so was Race. You kept expecting your phone to ping with the ridiculous Kim Possible text tone that he had set as his custom notification, but it never went off. You missed him, but if you texted him or called him and he said what you were afraid he would, that he was back with Spot, or that wasn’t interested in you, it would all be real. It was easier to ignore it, to act like you had never felt anything.

Before long, Katherine had to go back to university and you had to go back to school. Davey and Romeo met you as you were walking into the ugly and familiar brick building. It felt like everything had gone back to normal. You were no longer dating a popular jock and you were invisible again, in the best way.

“I’m pretty sure that the Mathletes’ wild New Years’ party overshadowed your video. I heard someone puked in an oven, it was disgusting,” Davey said, as you made your way to your lockers.

“Yeah, it got taken down before I even saw it, if that’s any consolation,” Romeo agreed.

“It’s not, but thanks, Rome,” you nudged him gently with your shoulder. “It certainly does feel good to be back to norm-.”

You stopped speaking when you saw a crowd around your locker. Davey grabbed your arm and pushed through, pulling you behind him.

Taped to your locker door was a photograph, a screenshot of the video.

_It’s always the ones you don’t expect!!!_

The words were written in block capitals on your locker door, in black Sharpie. You felt tears prick at your eyes. Romeo ripped the picture off and you just dropped you bag and rushed back through the crowd. You weren’t sure where you would go, but you just had to get away. You missed being invisible.

You hadn’t gotten more than a few steps down the hallway when you bumped into something warm, and hard.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?”, Race grabbed your wrist gently and asked. You didn’t let yourself stop, pulling your arm away quickly, and running away as fast as you could.

Race stopped Davey as he went to follow you.

“Jacobs. What’s going on here?”

Davey grimaced.

“Someone taped this to Y/N’s locker.”

Race grabbed the picture out of Davey’s hand. He had seen the video, of course he had. Guys had been texting it to him all through Christmas break, mostly congratulating him on it. Every time he wanted to text you, to ask if you’d seen it or if you were okay, he reminded himself that you wanted nothing to do with him. Jack was probably comforting you and you were probably better off with him, anyway.

“Someone? Who did this, Davey?”

“I think you can guess.”

Race’s eyes caught on Spot, standing in the corner of the hallway, watching with a smile. Of course. Race grabbed Albert’s arm and whispered something in the boy’s ear. Al nodded, and stood beside him, his arms folded.

“Alright, listen up!”

Race had to raise his voice to be heard all through the hallway.

“If I hear anybody talking about that video to Y/N L/N or to anyone, me and Al over here are gonna have a real nice talk with you, after school. Is that clear? You leave her alone, or we’ll have a problem, alright?”

Everyone nodded, muttered affirmatives, and quickly scattered. Race wasn’t violent, but he and his boys had been in their fair share of fights. It wouldn’t be a good idea to pick one with them. Race made his way to your locker and read the words that were still there. He swore under his breath. He knew that handwriting.

He turned to the place where Spot had been standing, but he had run off in the chaos. He cursed again and stalked off, blue eyes stormy and face red. He didn’t care what you thought of him, right then. He just wanted to hold you, to protect you from all of the whispers and beady eyes of high school drama. More than that, he wanted to know that you were okay, even if you weren’t with him.

As he walked off, he didn’t notice you, peering around a corner from behind him. Your face was blotchy, and your eyes were red, but there was something certain in them. It felt good to have someone stand up for you, but you knew that you had to stand up for yourself, eventually. You shook your head, once, twice, as if to clear away the worry and stood up straight. You were going to find Spot Conlon, and you were going to talk to him, yourself. This was your battle. Spot had come after you. It was about time that you confronted him, with or without Race by your side.


	8. The End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i know that this is a stupid fanfiction, but finishing this part really felt like i just finished writing my first novel. at any rate, this is one of the first long-ish things that i’ve started writing and actually finished. thank you all so so much for reading, it’s been mad fun to write for y’all. if anyone is interested in an epilogue, or anything else in this universe let me know! hope you’re all happy with the ending. love you all, enjoy! <3  
> update: there probably will be an epilogue soon!

You found Spot Conlon at lunch, in the line to get something to eat. Mustering up all the courage that you could find, you tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around, he looked shocked for a moment, but he recovered quickly, retreating back into a practiced bravado.

“Something the matter, Y/LN?”

You sighed. You should have expected that he wouldn’t make this easy.

“Spot, we need to talk.”

“Right here? I’m kind of busy.”

“Well, this can’t wait. Are you gonna follow me outside or do you want to have this conversation here?”

For a moment, it looked as though he wouldn’t back down and you felt your confidence waver. Then, he sighed and put his tray down on a table and followed you out of the cafeteria. You stopped in the first empty corridor that you could find, and you turned to him. You had him where you wanted him, but you had no idea how to do this. He stood with his arms crossed, looking for all the world like the boy he pretended to be, the one who made most of your classmates (and some of your teachers) quake in their boots. And, then, you saw his eyes flicker down to his feet, in a moment of uncertainty, and you remembered the Spot you had grown up with. You saw the cheerful seven-year-old who you used to follow through the jungle gym, the vicious eleven-year-old who would defend you against any boy who looked at you for a little too long, the friend you had once had, and you asked yourself: what had changed?

“You know, I meant to confront you about the locker thing, but, I just-,” you lost your words for a moment. “You were my best friend, Spot. What happened?”

He sighed, and the façade that had been cracking fell away altogether.

“Do you really not know?”

He sounded vulnerable.

“You know, you were the first person that I ever came out to,” he went on.

You remembered the moment, of course you did. You were twelve, and sweaty from chasing one another around a park in an impression of some TV show that you had watched. You crashed down on the grass, and he crashed next to you. You were silent for a moment and he asked you if you’d ever kissed a boy. No, you answered, because it was true, and he was silent for a little bit.

“I think I’d like to,” you remember him saying, his voice almost too weak to hear.

“Kiss a boy?”

“Yeah,” he answered, “But, maybe not anyone. Like, only some boys, y’know? Like maybe Tony Higgins.”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “He looks like he’d be a good kisser.”

And you both giggled a little, and the topic changed to something he’d seen in a video game or the fruit cake his grandmother had baked. You couldn’t really remember the details, after that.

It hadn’t occurred to you until you were much older that Spot was brave. You thought that maybe that’s why he was so scary all the time, to cover up his own fear.

“You were the first person who had any idea that I was even interested in boys.”

You were brought back into the moment, and you had a little trouble reconciling the Spot in your memories with the boy in front of you. Sure, he was still a little tiny for his age and, sure, he still had that thick accent, but somewhere along the way he had changed.

“I-I didn’t know that, Spot.”

“Yeah, I figured you didn’t. You were the first person that I ever came out to, and, you kissed the boy that I liked.”

Was he being serious?

“It was spin the bottle, Spot. It wasn’t like I had much choice.”

“Of course, you had a choice! You could have said no! But, you didn’t. And, now, you wonder why I don’t want to be your friend?”

“Is that what this whole thing’s been about? I kissed Race when we were  _twelve_ , and you’ve waited until now to get back at me for it?”

“It’s not just that. I trusted you, and you let that go, and now you’re dating him. The same boy that I’ve  _always_  liked.”

“We were children, Spot. If that’s what this is about, then you need to grow up. This isn’t the Disney Channel, you can’t just lash out at me like this is some shitty teen movie. Grow up. If Race was really what this was all about, then you can have him. He’s all yours.”

You turned to walk away, having said all that you needed to say, when Spot’s hand reached out to grab your arm.

“He’s probably not going to be mine, ever again. That night, he came up to my room to tell me that,” he hesitated, and his voice sounded a little water-y, like he was about to cry. “He told me that nothing would ever happen again between the two of us. Because of you.”

He dropped your arm, and now his gaze was fixed on the ground. You wanted to say something, tell him that people had their hearts broken all the time and that that didn’t justify what he did. You wanted to tell him that you had missed being his friend all that time. You wanted to ask him if he meant it, if Race really wanted you. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and hugged him. Everyone needed a little kindness, right? He hugged you back, and pulled away after a moment, dusting himself off and retreating back into his regular bravado. He scoffed, and swaggered off, but his steps looked a little more uncertain. Spot wasn’t the villain that you had expected, but, then, no one really was. He was just another kid, who wanted to love and to be loved. He had a rotten way of showing it, but he was probably just as scared as you. You couldn’t blame him for that.

You turned to walk back to the cafeteria, and there was Race. He looked a little shocked, so you assumed he had seen what had just happened.

“I,” he started to say, before stopping and shaking his head. “You’re not scared of Spot like everyone else is.”

You wanted to tell Race everything. You wanted to say that you had missed him, and you wanted him, too, and that he meant so much more to you than you had expected him to. But, the words got caught in your throat. You just nodded, scared to meet his eyes. You had slipped and fallen in love with their blue, and you knew, from memory, that they looked like the colour of the sea kissing the sky. But, that blue, beautiful as it was, terrified you. So, you just nodded.

“No point in being scared of him, I guess.”

Race nodded back, once, twice, and then he straightened his shoulders, lowered his head, jammed his hands in his front pockets, and kept walking, down the hall and away from you.

* * *

That afternoon, you arrived home a little later than usual and were met with the sight of Jack Kelly, sitting on your porch. Your mind flashed back to a few months before, when his presence at your house was a nightmare come true, and you smiled to yourself.

“Hi,” you said, dropping your bag and sitting down next to him.

“Hey, you’re not gonna invite me inside?”

“I mean, you can come on in, but Kath left this weekend, so there wouldn’t be much for you to do.”

“What if I told you, and this may sound crazy, but what if I told you that I’m not here to see her?”

Oh. You hoped that he wasn’t implying what you thought he was implying. He must have seen something change in your expression.

“No, no, no, no, not like that! I just,” he looked a little sheepish. “Before I was dating Katherine, we were best friends. I just want to hang out with my best friend again.”

You smiled, you had missed him too. You got up, opened the door and soon he was sitting on your couch, looking as comfortable as the furniture. You talked for a little, not saying much. You caught one another up on your lives and you felt good being his friend again. Things had never ended between you, not like they had with Spot, but the feeling that someone close to you was fading away had hurt just as much. It felt good to be with him again.

“How did it feel,” you started to ask, “when you and Katherine ended things?”

You weren’t sure why you were wondering. Maybe, you wanted to find out if ending a relationship – if what you and Race had had could even be called that – was supposed to keep hurting for this long.

“I guess, I was angry, at first. I always did feel like she was a little too smart for me, so her picking college over me felt like she was proving all my shitty insecurities right. But, the longer she was away, the more it made sense. Some people can do long-distance, but we wouldn’t have made it. She was the smart one, after all, I guess.”

He nudged you, gently, with his shoulder.

“What about you? How are things with Higgins?”

You laughed, drily.

“Things are non-existent. I miss him, though, a lot. Sorry, I know you’re not his biggest fan.”

He shook his head.

“You don’t need to apologise for the way you feel. And, I don’t hate him, or anything. I liked how he stood up for you, yesterday. He should have done it way earlier, but he is jock and they’re slow learners.”

His eyes twinkled with mirth. You supposed this was Jack’s way of accepting Race, of saying that he was okay with the two of you. Not that there was anything for him to be okay with.

“I just, I know he likes me, that’s the worst part of it all.”

“That doesn’t sound like a downside to me.”

“No, it just… It makes everything more real, I guess. I just still feel like second-best, or fake-best, and it sucks. I’ve written letters all my life. I just, I guess I wish I could be like the girls in the books that I read. Like, instead of writing love letters, I wish that I could get one.”

Jack reached across the couch and wrapped you in a hug.

“Well, what about the notes he wrote you?”

“You know about those?”

“I mean, everyone in school who’s into guys has mentioned how cute it is. Race Higgins, the popular jock, is just a big softie at heart.”

You giggled a little, and then remembered that the letters were probably still in your room. You hadn’t read all of them, but you saved most of them and they were sitting there, in the top drawer of your desk. You told Jack as much and went to retrieve them. There were more than you’d realised. Your fake relationship had lasted longer than you’d expected.

You sat back down on the couch and began to unfold a couple, and read the words, in his messy chicken scratch.

_Your presentation in world lit was great!! I bet this whole school’s jealous of my smarty pants fake gf_

_I really like talking to you, it feels like we can talk about anything_

_I’m happy you can’t drive for shit. You make my car look way cuter_

_You looked really pretty today._

Jack read a couple too.

“So, you still think that you haven’t gotten a love letter?”

Something inside you was stirring. It felt like butterflies, but warmer. You felt like your face was permanently frozen in a smile.

“Jack, um, I don’t want to be rude, but I think I should probably go find Race. I-I need to talk to him.”

Jack nodded and picked up his bag. On his way to the door, he stopped and turned to you.

“He makes you happy. You deserve that.”

You smiled. You were so glad to have your best friend back.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, you climbed into your car, a white piece of paper folded up in your trembling hands. You didn’t have time to wait for the bus, today. It was Wednesday, and you were sure Race wouldn’t be at school for track practice for much longer. The drive felt longer than usual, but that was probably because you couldn’t hear anything except for your heart beating in your ears – it was louder than the top forty song that played on the radio and louder than your thoughts. You were scared, but you thought that maybe, that was what courage was. Courage could not ever erase your fear, it was the act of facing it.

You pulled into the school parking lot. Your car was still intact, but your nerves were shattered. You could see boys running around the red track that ringed your school field and, after a deep breath, you walked towards them.

You spotted Race soon enough, his blond hair seemed to glow in the afternoon sun. He was running, effortlessly, like it was easy, and, for him, it probably was. He told you once, in the early stages of your not-relationship, that running let him to turn off his brain for a little bit, to focus on the world around him and ‘all of the other noise’. He was so unfocused that he didn’t see you approaching at first. When he did, his jaw dropped a little and he stumbled.

“Hey, Higgins, I can’t believe you’re falling for me,” you joked, raising your voice so he heard you from a distance.

Maybe it was a little too soon for humour, because he didn’t laugh, or even smile.

“I have something to tell you,” you tried again.

“Uh, okay,” he replied this time.

He walked a little nearer and you got a little lost in his eyes.

“Um, I drove here!”, you blurted out.

His steps stopped short.

“Really? Wow, that’s, uh, so great, um, congrats.”

“Thanks!”

You looked into his eyes and lost all your nerve, turning to walk away. You weren’t feeling that courageous with him in front of you.

“Wait,” he shouted after you. “What’s that in your hand?”

It was a hastily folded piece of paper, and your knuckles hurt a little from how tightly you were gripping it. You slowly turned back to him and took a deep breath and a few steps nearer to him.

“Oh, uh, nothing.”

“It’s nothing, is it?”

He was near enough now that he could reach to pull it out of your hands, but he stopped and dropped his hand almost as soon as he reached for it. He must have seen his name scrawled in capital letters on the back.

 _RACE HIGGINS_.

It looked almost mocking now.

“If, uh, if you really want me to read that, you’re going to have to give it to me. It doesn’t look like the kind of thing that should be taken without permission.”

Your hands were trembling as you unfolded it and lifted it to eye-level.

“Do you think that you could, uh, turn around?”

He smiled a crooked half-grin and turned, slowly.

“Anthony Higgins, I,” you took a deep breath. “I, I can’t do this.”

His shoulders tensed up, a little. You rose your hand and tapped him lightly. He turned around, as graceful as a startled animal.

“I think this is the kind of thing that will be easier to say if I can see you, while I say it.”

He nodded, and you took another deep breath.

“ _Race_  Higgins,” he chuckled a little at your correction. “I need you to know that five years ago, I wrote you a love letter and I didn’t mean any of it.”

He was frowning, so you continued, quickly.

“But, today, I wrote another one. And, I meant every word. I, I like you, Higgins.” The hand that had been holding the letter dropped down to your side. You needed to go off-script, for this. “I like you, maybe even more than like you, and it’s terrifying, but it’s so,  _so_  real. And, um, that’s what I came here to say.”

You turned again, ready to actually leave this time. A hand reached out and wrapped itself around your waist, and you spun into Race’s chest.

“Not so fast, Y/L/N.”

He was a little sweaty, but, just then, you didn’t mind at all.

“I only went to Spot’s room that night to tell him that he and I were over. For good. Because,” he exhaled and then his lips twisted back into that familiar smirk, “because I’m in love with you, Y/N. Only you.”

“You’re what?”

He grinned, and you wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him with all of the passion and pain that rested in your heart.  _This was real_ , you kept repeating in your head. Race loved you, you loved him, and it was the most real thing you’d ever felt. You had always dreamed of being kissed like girls got kissed in the books that you read. You may not have expected it to happen on a red tar track, surrounded by sweaty boys, but this was your moment. It felt like you were living in a cheesy teen romcom, but, just then, when you felt Race smile into the kiss and tighten his grip on your waist, you didn’t mind one bit. This was as real as anything could get, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

**Author's Note:**

> multi-part fic, inspired by the adorably cheesy movie by the same title. follow my tumblr (@racinghiggins) if you enjoyed this!


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